


It's Quiet (Uptown)

by Rainbow_Transform



Series: One Last Time [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: And I love ’em, But not really since it isn't really... Alexander, ENJOY IT, Gen, I mean forget it, Might be a hit of Lams, Reincarnation AU, Shoutout to booping_the_snoop, They are beautiful, They keep talkin’ to me, You're Welcome, enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 05:04:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12028716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Transform/pseuds/Rainbow_Transform
Summary: They all remember.





	It's Quiet (Uptown)

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy it.
> 
> (Also, not trying to like hate, but why do people "slut shame" Alexander Hamilton who's like two hundred, three hundred years old? For an affair? But when Burr's girlfriend ends up being married to a British officer and she's having sex and a baby with Burr it's okay?)
> 
> I mean, I didn't say anything.
> 
> (Also, I'm mostly using the original broadway actors as the reincarnations. Except for Madison, because Oak played both Mulligan and Madison.)

Thomas remembers his old lives first. There isn’t a burning pain, or flashing light, or somebody booming down to him _“Remember, Thomas, and face your destiny.”_ It’s more… quick and painless. He remembers being a girl, and having pains. ( _Never again,_ Thomas thinks, before he shudders.) He remembers having his mother’s hand holding his tightly - and gently pushing him to go forward, then back. Dancing.

 

Thomas shook his head. He isn’t Sarah Wing anymore. Or David Kelly, Kono Low, Adam Mulling, or anyone! He’s Thomas! Thomas Jefferson!

 

And he remembers that life like he’d lived it yesterday. (He also remembers James; who doesn’t remember him.)

 

He remembers Washington, and Burr. Eliza, Angelica, Lafayette, Hercules. He remembers… Hamilton. _Hamilton_.

 

He resigns to finding the others. (Maybe they remembers like him.)

* * *

 

James remembers second. (It’s only because Thomas comes to get him first.) He’s in college, trying to finish his schooling when a stranger approaches him.

 

“Hi, I’m looking for a…” The man squints at the paper in front of him. “Lloyd Low?” James nods and smiled just a bit. “It’s me. People usually just call me James.”

 

The man narrows his eyes. “How?” He asks. James shrugs.

 

“My dad named me, but my mom didn’t like it so she started calling me ‘James’.” James said. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Is there anything you need from me?” He asks and the man nods. He sits down, and holds out his hand.

 

“I’m Thomas Jefferson.” The man - Thomas - says with such ease, that James doesn’t think about it until a bit later. James reopens the book he’d been reading.

 

“Nice to meetcha, Thomas.” James responds, and then continues reading. Thomas suddenly grabs James’s book and he stands up. “What’s wrong with you?” James asks and Thomas stares at the book for a few minutes.

 

“What?” James asks. “What’s wrong with reading about Alexander Hamilton?” Thomas’s eyes are so narrow, they are practically slits.

 

“You hated Hamilton,” Thomas says and James yanks back his book. “He’s dead, but yeah, I don’t like him. I don’t ‘hate’ him but I don’t like him either. The book’s interesting, though. Did you know the only reason Hamilton told about his affair from Maria was because he didn’t want people to think he stole money from the government? So he didn’t ‘ruin his legacy’. Could you believe that?” James laughed bitterly.

 

Thomas stares at James for a few moment before swallowing. “This was a mistake,” Thomas says. He’s writing something down on a piece of paper and hands if off to James who takes it with an attitude. Thomas leaves and James sits back down, and reopens his book. Just as he begins reading about Alexander; something drills into his skull.

 

He doesn’t cry out because it isn’t very painful. (Moreover the time that it’s very… assuring. Like he’s complete.)

 

And he remembers everything. He remembers all his past lives; but the most clear ones is when he’s James Madison. Who’s always standing by Thomas Jefferson’s side.

 

He calls Thomas the next day, and words are just gushing out of his mouth and Thomas is laughing.

 

“So you’ve remembered,” Thomas says and James screams “Yes!”

 

“Who else remembers?” James asks and Thomas pauses. James narrows his eyes and Thomas speaks.

 

“No one.”

 

“Oh, Thomas.”

 

“Yeah.”

* * *

 

Carleigh was sitting next to a cafe when she’s approached by two people.

 

“James Madison,” the shorter one says and Carleigh smiles.

 

“Thomas Jefferson,” the taller one says and Carleigh tilted her head just a little bit.

 

“I’m Carleigh,” she states. Thomas and James are biting their lips, staring at her like they really need to tell her something.

 

“Have you… felt weird? At all? Any of these years?” James starts and Carleigh raises her eyebrow.

 

“Sometimes when I forget to eat.” Carleigh sips from a glass of iced tea and Thomas looks around the cafe. Carleigh turns to James. “Is something wrong with him?” She asks and James shrugs.

 

“He’s been… through some pretty traumatic stuff.” James says and Carleigh nods, pursing her lips.

 

“We should get going,” Thomas says, tugging James’s arm. James turns to Carleigh, and quickly scribbles down a number.

 

“Just call us if you’ve experienced any headaches…” James starts and Thomas interrupts “Or anything close to that.” Carleigh’s eyebrow rose again, but she nods and takes the napkin. She doesn’t think she’ll really need it; but she won’t get rid of it just yet.

 

(She calls them three days later.)

 

“I was Eliza.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I married Alexander Hamilton.”

 

“Correct.”

 

“He cheated on me.”

 

“He didn’t mean to.”

 

“He killed our son.”

 

“Philip was always meant to die.”

 

_“Thomas!”_

 

“What? It’s the truth!”

 

_“That’s her kid!”_

 

“So?”

 

_“God damn it, Thomas.”_

 

“Wait. Who else remembers?”

 

There’s silence.

 

“Just us, for right now.” James and Thomas say in unison, smoothy covering the awkward silence.

 

“Who are we going for next?”

 

“John Laurens.”

* * *

 

He’s sitting in his apartment, drinking a beer when he hears a buzz. He turns his head, and gets up to click the button.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Mr Martinez, we’d like to speak with you.” It seems like a woman’s voice. Anthony can’t. He can’t just let some random stranger into his home (especially with his mother so sick. She’s only a few blocks away. Anthony can go to her. Get out the fire escape, and go find her. No. No. She made it clear. She doesn’t want to speak to him; and Anthony will respect her wishes.)

 

He realizes that he hasn’t spoken to the woman in over two minutes.

 

“Um… sorry. Now’s not a good time.”

 

“Mr Martinez. This is very, very important. We need to speak face-to-face for this.” A man’s voice. _Her husband’s_ Anthony thinks clumsy, and sighs.

 

“Okay. Okay.” He grumbles and buzzes them up. How bad could they be anyway?

 

They walk in, and Anthony wants to laugh and cry. The woman has long hair, that looks so pretty. The taller man has curly bushy, large hair that doesn’t seem to be tameable, while the shorter man has short cropped hair.

 

“Hello,” Anthony says glumly.

 

“I’m Eliza.” The woman states.

 

“Thomas,” the taller man.

 

“James,” the shorter man.

 

“Listen, Anthony,” Thomas starts and Anthony turns to his fridge and grabs another beer. He’d offer one to his guests but Eliza actually always drinks either soda or water. Huh. Anthony offers a beer to each of the men, but offers soda and water to Eliza, who smiles and asks for soda.

 

How did he know that?

 

“Have you experience anything lately?” James asks. Anthony shrugs. “Depends,” he says before chucking an empty beer bottle into the trash.

 

“Headaches. Memories that aren’t… yours?” Eliza offers and Anthony raises an eyebrow.

 

“Is this some sort of prank?” He says, and his face splits into a wide grin. “Is Daveed back from his trip to London?” Anthony whirls toward his doorway and calls out. “Come out, Diggs. Jig’s up!”

 

Daveed didn’t come out of the doorway and Anthony narrowed his eyes. “That’s rich.” He says. “Not going to stick around for the joke?” Anthony sighs and turns back to Eliza, Thomas, and James. “Look, I don’t know who you are. But if this is a joke, leave.”

 

They don’t move. Thomas looks uncomfortable and James looks like he needs a drink (same, James.) Eliza grabs Anthony’s hands.

 

“Just think, Anthony. Isn’t there something… missing?”

 

Anthony yanks his hands back. “No,” he snarls before he actually thinks.

 

“God damn it.” He says and rubs his eyes.

 

“Fuck.” The memories came faster.

 

“I’m really fucked, aren’t I? Wait. Eliza? Where’s Hamilton?”

 

“We haven’t found him yet,” Eliza says.

 

“Fuck.” John says again. Eliza nods.

 

“Thomas has been trying to find people who could be Lafayette. He’s struggling to get him, firstly.” John rubs his eyes and breathes deeply.

 

“I already know Lafayette.” He says. “He’s Diggs. And Diggs is in London for a few more weeks. We aren’t going to get him back sooner.” Eliza purses her lips.

 

“Then we better go trying to find Hercules Mulligan.”

 

“Hey, how _do_ you find them?”

 

“We usually just look for people with the same characteristics.”

 

“That takes a long time, doesn’t it?”

 

“Yeah. But it’s the only thing that we can do.”

* * *

 

Okieriete “Oak” Onaodowan was joined at his restaurant by four people. They all sat down, and Oak frowned.

 

“Sorry, but this is my table?” He phrases it like a question (he’s pretty sure it’s his, though.)

 

“Yeah,” one of the men say.

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“We’d come to collect.”

 

“Collect what?”

 

“Memories,”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“You’re insane.”

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

“I’m calling security.”

 

He lifts the phone right before the woman manages to snatch it from his hands. “Sorry, Oak. We can’t have that.” The taller one says.

 

“Look, I don’t know what is going on but you need to get out of my restaurant.” Oak considered himself a patient man, but these people were trying him. (Except the phone holding his phone looks familiar. And so does the other three.)

 

“Look, Oak,” one of the men say, holding out a wrinkled napkin. “Why don’t you take this and call us? We’ll answer. Promise. Just call us when you’re ready.”

 

Oak doesn’t reach for the napkin, just stares coldly at the man. He drops the napkin next to Oak’s hand and they all walk out. (Oak hears them arguing outside about how “he could remember if we just pushed.”) (He doesn’t know why, but he stuffs the napkin in his pants pocket.)

 

(He ends up calling a month later.)

 

“Oh, god.”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah. Just… trying to take it in.”

 

“Breath, relax. It’ll pass.”

 

“Don’t worry.”

 

“Where’s Lafayette?”

 

“In London. And he’s Diggs, remember?”

 

“Oh, god.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“John.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Ale-”

 

“I know. We haven’t found him yet. Thomas is still looking.”

 

“Thomas? But he’s… he hates Alexander.”

 

“Yeah. But he says that he can’t hate him right now.”

 

“Why?”

 

“He says we need to all get together.”

 

“Does he…?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then why…?”

 

“He says that we can’t be complete without the Revolution Squad. You know, George, me, you, him, James.”

 

“Who are we going for next?”

 

“Angelica. Lafayette’s not coming back until next week; and we don’t have Alexander’s location.”

 

“Eliza?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Does she…?”

 

“She misses him.”

 

“Will she…?”

 

“I don’t know.” The silence seemed to stretch on, and with it all the words Laurens wanted to say.

 

_I hope that she does, because Alexander loves her. If she doesn’t, he’d break. Alexander loves Eliza; but she might not love him anymore. Can’t we just figure this out? Eliza might hurt Alexander, which could be okay because Alexander hurt her with the affair. But then again, Burr had an affair with a British soldier’s wife, so…_

 

“I’ll be over in twenty minutes, max.” Mulligan says, grabbing his car keys and running out the door and locking it.

 

* * *

 

Angelica isn’t surprised to see them.

 

“Finally!” She exclaims, throwing her book aside. The five of them are surprised.

 

“You remembered?” Thomas says. Angelica nods, and stretches.

 

“I remembered yesterday and I was wondering how long it’d take for y’all to regain your memories. I was thinking I needed to go and find you guys myself.”

 

Eliza hugs Angelica and they both grin at each other.

 

“We’re missing one…” Eliza says and Angelica’s face darkens and they remember their sister. The last time they’d saw her, she was sick and dying in a bed.

 

“Let’s find her,” James says, smoothly sliding in.

* * *

 

Jasmine slides into a booth, and smiles at the server. She raises an eyebrow and hurries over.

 

“What’re you having, sugar?” The server asks and Jasmine reads the menu.

 

“Can I have lemon rice soup, please?” Jasmine asks and the server nods.

 

“It’s a good choice,” the server says and goes to place Jasmine’s order. The restaurant is one of the old-timey ones where there is a spinning machine where the server places pieces of paper and the cook takes them off (one by one) and cooks them.

 

It’s utterly boring waiting for the food to cook. The red color clashes with the blue decor; and it looks utterly pointless and wasteful.

 

Jasmine loves it.

 

The server returns with her food, and Jasmine is just about to take a spoonful when two figures suddenly are hovering above her.

 

“Hello, Jasmine,” one of the woman (the darker-skinned one) says and Jasmine blinks. They look familiar somehow. She smiles.

 

“Hello…?”

 

“Eliza.”

 

“Angelica.”

 

She has the urge to shout something (she doesn’t know what.) She takes a spoonful of her soup and sips it gently. The two woman don’t move, and Jasmine wants to tell them to go away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she continues eating and ignoring them.

 

Instead of leaving, they slide into the other side of the booth.

 

“We’d like to speak with you.” Angelica says and Jasmine sighs, putting down her spoon.

 

“Okay.” She says. They don’t look surprised (and she doesn’t mind.)

 

“We think you’re Peggy.” Eliza blurts out. Jasmine blinks. “Peggy? Peggy who?”

 

“Our sister Peggy.”

 

“I’m Jasmine.”

 

“But you’re Peggy, too.”

 

“I’m Jasmine. My name is Jasmine.”

 

“Jasmine - Peggy - please listen.”

 

“No way.”

 

“Just… take this. Please?” Angelica holds out a (very) wrinkled napkin and Jasmine takes it and throws it away. (She remembers the number, though. She has a perfect memory.)

 

“No,” she says smartly before slamming down a twenty-dollar bill and walking out of the restaurant.

 

(She doesn’t call for four days afterwards.)

 

“I’m Peggy,” she sobbed into the phone. “I’m so, so, so sorry. I am Peggy. I am, I am, I am.”

 

“It’s okay,” Eliza says smoothly.

 

“Everything is okay,” Angelica interjects smoothly.

* * *

 

Lafayette comes to them by himself, wringing his hands and biting his lip. He goes to Laurens first.

 

“I think I’m… I’m… someone else.” He says and Laurens squeezes his hand. “You’re Lafayette.” He says and Lafayette nods.

 

“ _Je ne sais pas ce qui se passe!_ ” Lafayette wails and Laurens nods. “I know, I know.” He says.

 

“It’s always confusing at first. It gets better. I promise.”

 

“ _Où est Alexandre?_ ”

 

“We’re still trying to find him. James thinks he might not have been reincarnated with us.”

 

“ _Mon petit lion?_ ”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh no.” Lafayette buries his face inside Laurens’ shoulder. (Which is kinds awkward, considering Lafayette is taller than Laurens.)

 

“Yeah. I know, I know.” Laurens says.

* * *

 

George knows who he is. Why wouldn’t he? He’s older than the others, so it makes sense he’d gotten his memories first. (Well, him and Martha. Perhaps Burr, but George hasn’t been in contact with him.)

 

But getting slapped by Eliza and chewed out by Madison (which is funny, considering how George is the first president).

 

“That was a dick move!” Madison snarled. “Leaving Thomas while you’ve got your memories? Why didn’t you tell us before?”

 

George sighs.

 

“I’ve been reincarnated many times,” he says.  

 

“So have we!”

 

“But I never could wake you up.” George says. He’s not looking at them.  “I’ve tried so many times, in so many lives,” George continues. “But you never woke up. None of you. And I couldn’t find Alexander.”

 

“Alexander? You couldn’t find Alexander?” Peggy interrupted.

 

“No. It’s like he vanished off the Earth and spirit realm.” George answers. “I thought if I woke up Alexander first, I’d be able to wake you guys  up. I’d searched the whole world, in all my lives, and I could never find him.”

 

“How did you remember?” Thomas asks. George looks at him.

 

“I’d be born knowing my memories,” he says. “It starts with the life I had before this one. Then, as I grow older, it travels backwards. By my twelfth birthday, I should know everything about every life I’d lead.”

 

“You guys were all different. I’d find you everywhere. Once I even found Thomas in Canada, making syrup.” George smiled wryly. “I’d attempt to wake you up. To get Thomas Jefferson to me. But you guys never did. So, I limited my search to only Alexander.” George shrugged. “I thought this life would be no different. I’d tried thirty-six times to wake everyone up. I thought to myself ‘this is the reincarnation where I take a break. Just one break,’ only to find out you’d already remembered. If I knew, I’d have come straight to you, Thomas.”

 

Thomas nods, but Madison scowls.

 

“How is that suppose to make him feel better? You’d given up!” Laurens cries. “You weren’t like this in the war!”

 

“War is war. We couldn’t retreat. We had to fight. For freedom. For _America_.” George says, staring at Laurens with fire burning in his eyes.

 

“This is the twenty-first century. We have computers instead of books. People in ‘fandoms’ instead of study groups. People focus on looks instead of being happy. The twenty-first century. Did you think it would be easy?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

* * *

 

George takes them to Burr, who’s been hiding out since he remembered. The sisters are staring at him, coldly, and Burr’s head is bowed.

 

“I’m sorry.” He says and Eliza walks next to him.

 

She lifts his head, and inspects his features.

 

“It’s okay.” She says and then gives a quick flash of a smile. “It’s in the past.”

 

* * *

 

George is positively beaming when they realize they found Alexander. “He’s someone called Lin,” Thomas says, then snorts. “Listen. Lin Manuel Miranda. Who’ve thunk?”

 

Eliza is there, ripping the paper from Thomas’s hands. “Lin? Let’s find him!”

 

“Slow down, Liz. Where is he?”

 

“I don’t know.” Thomas says and everyone stops.

 

“What?” Angelica says. Her eyes are staring deeply into Thomas’s.

 

“I don’t know where Hamilton is, okay? I know what his name is, but I don’t know where he is.” Thomas says and they feel George deflate behind them.

 

“Let’s find him, together.” Laurens suggests. “I mean, he’s gotta be somewhere in America, right?” Thomas nods mutely.

 

“Let’s go.” Lafayette says, firmly. “ _Mon petit lion_ isn’t going to wait.”

 

“Okay.” Thomas says. “Okay.”

* * *

 

They approach him slowly at first. He’s reading a book and Thomas can see the cover. (The other can, too, because they all suck in a breath.)

 

 _Hamilton: The Revolution_ is in his hands, and he’s reading it eagerly. Flipping through the pages with fury only Alexander possessed. Thomas sits by him, and Alexander doesn’t look up just yet.

 

“That’s a good book,” James says, sitting on the other side of Alexander.

 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. It’s awesome. But Alexander’s kinda a dick. But he’s cool, too.” Alexander says and Thomas feels sick. This isn’t how things go. This feels different.

 

Laurens is sitting in front of him, grinning. “I love Alexander Hamilton. Have you seen his hair? God. It kinda looks like yours.” Laurens says and Alexander raises an eyebrow.

 

“Huh.” He says. “It feels like you’re _flirting_ with me.”

 

And Thomas realized it. Alexander doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember anything.

 

“He doesn’t know.” Thomas says, pain showing through his voice. Yes, he didn’t like Hamilton but to sit there and watch him be someone else?

 

“What?” Alexander says while the others stare at Thomas with sad faces.

 

“Are you sure?” They ask and Thomas nods.

 

“He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t even have them.”

 

“What?” Lin - because he isn’t Alexander. He’s Lin - says and Thomas stands up.

 

“We’re sorry for wasting your time.” Thomas says and they all disappear.

 

* * *

 

It’s only a few years later when they realize Lin is writing music. For a show that he isn’t making. They each pull out a wrinkled napkin and call each other.

 

“Are we trying out?”

 

“Why not? It’s _Hamilton._ ”

 

“Okay.”

 

“We’ll try out.”

 

“If we don’t get the part, I’m seriously going to laugh so hard I cry.”

 

“I’d honestly be shocked.”

 

“Let’s do this.”

 

* * *

 

When they perform, it’s like they are back home. Back in their true century. Because Lin - even if he doesn’t have Alexander’s memories - keeps them all on their toes. He’s Alexander; but he’s Lin.

 

But as they watch him “die”, Eliza and Angelina both say that they were sure Lin’s eyes flashed to Alexander’s. They said that he looked like he’d been punched, and they didn’t quite know how to figure it out.

 

But as they act, and sing, they feel like they are back home. Back with Alexander by their side, with his debate skills and anger fueling.

 

But when the curtain comes down, Lin comes through and everyone knows. This boy will not regain any memories. He won’t remember Eliza, or Peggy. He won’t remember the different debates Thomas and him had.

 

He won’t remember the thrill of battle. He won’t be Alexander.

 

Perhaps that is what makes everyone cry as they watch Lin hurry away.

 

Because Alexander will never come back to them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Until next time, my faithful readers! 
> 
> ^.^
> 
> (PS: Visit my tumblr. It's the same name and everything.)


End file.
